Forever and even longer. My shoulders are slowly jarred into certain ligament destruction by every effort to breathe. The hammock is horrible punishment, especially since I have to observe the slow construction of gallows across the other corner of the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers take their time, intentionally leaving me miserably tormented.
Everything on my body either hurts or has long since fallen asleep. My skin is numb where it rests upon the ground. Beneath my tailbone cries for relief. My abdominal muscles are worthless and my legs feel cold, mostly drained of blood. The only comfort is that the bright sun is shielded from my eyes by a big tree next to the hammock pedestal.
People have been watching me, pointing and whispering since I was put up here. No one I recognize. I don't want Meyla or Hannah to see me like this. I look over at the 'workers' and see them sitting around again, drinking coffee and watching the day pass. "Get back-" Breathe. "To your jobs you lazy-" Breathe. Exhaustion robs away the end of my mutterings. I sigh and sag.
Yesterday, I tried to pick myself up off the ground to get feeling back into my hind end and to reduce stress on my tailbone, but my muscles didn't have the strength to lift my form for more than a handful of seconds. This indignity even includes having no private method to relieve myself. Ultimately, anyone in the hammock begins smelling of their own filth very quickly.
I try to take my mind off all these agonies by watching the nearest screen. My neck moans for mercy. There is no mercy in Panem. Only distraction from the sufferings we endure, so I watch the vile Games.
Peeta and Katniss are at the lake, waiting for Cato who remains deep in the forest. With the gallows being built so slowly, I may just catch how this Hunger Games will end. People throughout the plaza are wearing mockingjay pins, a symbol of solidarity with the girl who sang to my niece.
Dusk slips into night in District 11. While the Gamemakers wait for action, early replays are shown, laced with imagery from earlier events in the Games. Even clips of the three tributes' interviews with Caesar Flickerman are interspersed in the footage. I watch, too distant to hear the audio track.
"Do you understand yet, Kippen?" A voice creeps out from behind the tree. In the dark, I can't his face; the shadows revealing only his silhouette leaning against the rigid trunk.
"Excuse me?" My voice is weak and defeated, almost dull.
"Do you understand?" The voice is familiar… Where do I know it from?
"Understand what?"
"How the world will change. How Panem will change."
"No, I-" A ragged cough erupts from my throats, sending fire through my belly. I gasp for breath. "The world won't change. No one is willing-" Breathe. "To take a stand."
"Standing at the wrong time or for the wrong thing is equally foolish as not standing, Kippen." He leans forward. "You'll have to forgive our mutual friend. He felt it too risky to speak with you himself."
Scipio. Always too risky. "Can't make a move, lest it-" Breathe. "Rattle our chains, right?"
"Kippen, Kippen… Why rattle the chains until you can break them?" Keva Thos. I've only had a handful of conversations with him. But I recognize his voice now. He ignores my grunt and continues. "You've shaken your chains and they have broken you. We're lucky that our man inside can pin this on you alone. If he wanted to, everyone you know could be arrested and interrogated."
Meyla, Hannah, and Marek, as well as their children. "It was my choice to make-" Breathe. "and I'll live with it."
"You'll hang with it, Kippen. We really could have used you when the time was proper. That's all lost now, though."
"My family will be okay, then?"
Keva shrugs in the shadows, "As any other is in Panem."
"Your guy on the inside must be-" Breathe. "seems sort of picky in how he helps."
"He must remain concealed. He can't do all things. He can't even investigate Peacekeepers because that would put him on the Capitol's watch list."
My eyes shoot open. "Investigate Peacekeepers?"
Keva shakes his head, "Kip, you've been blinded by your hatred for so long that you can't even see what's right in front of your face. Who do you think got you out of interrogation? Who do you think protected you when you spoke out publicly about your hatred of the Capitol? Who is letting me talk to you right now?"
Volente Covas is the underground's man? He threw Mason's case to the wind because he wants to change the government? It can't be! He's a hateful man who toys with people for his own enjoyment. "Pah! Impossible!" I'm racked on the hammock by more coughs. "What-" Cough! Deep breath. "What of the plan then?"
"Been under way for a few months now, moving better than we could have hoped." He looks at my tortured, skeptical face. "You didn't need to know, Kip."
The more people know about a plan, the more likely the information is to get to the Capitol. I grit my teeth, leaning my head against a rigid arm. "Sit here in the dark, let all this continue?" Breathe. "How can you stand that?"
"I can't. You couldn't either." Keva nods toward the Main Office. "Everything I do has to have the greatest effect possible. You just couldn't bide your time as the rest of us do."
There will be no revolt. My fate is sealed. Keva doesn't have any children. He wouldn't understand, couldn't comprehend my motivation. Maybe I didn't jumpstart a revolution, but Mason's murderer is dead, and before me. Twenty-six Peacekeepers went too.
"What have you done, Keva?" Breathe. "You say I've fouled up... And maybe I have." Breathe. "What have you done?"
"I haven't made things harder on the people here."
"What do you mean?"
"Kippen... Do you think the Capitol is just going to let your bombing slide?" He gestures westward. "They're sending in two hundred and fifty more Peacekeepers. Quartered in people's homes and apartments. Do you realize the entire barracks wing is closed off? Kip, there's not a home in Three Corners that's going to accommodate it's owners!"
"Meyla..." My head lolls back, hanging behind my arms.
"Your wife can go live with your sister. What about all these other people, Kippen? Did you really think you could do this all yourself? Did you think at all?"
I don't respond. I'm too weak. I can't do anything about it, anyway. Keva is right. I made my choices and I'll die with them. Whatever harm will come to the district is beyond my capacity to change.
"Frankly, Kippen. District 11 isn't going to be the focus of rebellion. We wouldn't've been in the first place, but it's going to be even tougher now." He pushes off against the tree and heads away from the pedestal. "Our friend wants you to know he's sorry for the way things have worked out."
Keva Thos walks steadily away. I watch him until my neck can't brace my head up anymore. The gallows won't be built soon enough.